


A God Am I

by thedrunkenwerewolf, Timewaster123456789



Series: Heirverse: Phase 3 (Sanctuary) [2]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Bittersweet, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, M/M, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Self-Reflection, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-26 10:05:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19765948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedrunkenwerewolf/pseuds/thedrunkenwerewolf, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Timewaster123456789/pseuds/Timewaster123456789
Summary: Aizen contemplates Gin's place in his life on the night between CF and Sanc.





	A God Am I

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing. TheDrunkenWerewolf owns the verse she's just letting me play with her toys. Kubo owns everything else. Written to Fake it by Seether
> 
> Contains lines shamelessly lifted from Wolfie fics.

Aizen stared into the corpse–filled darkness, black as his soul. It was ironic, he'd stood against, well that might have been a slight exaggeration, he'd resisted the voice alone for so long. Now here he was mere days from making his move, on the eve of beginning his ascension to godhood and utterly, painfully aware of his lingering humanity.

 _I will be God,_ he kept repeating it in his head like a mantra, going over his plans in an effort to convince himself. Still his thoughts drifted.

There was no light of course but he saw scenes playing across the canvas of the room, the times he'd pushed Gin away. Momo gods damn the bitch, and damn himself. The massacre…his mind tried to skip over that one, it was still too fresh, he couldn't even attempt to cast a dispassionate eye on it yet. Bile rose in his throat anyway as he forced it to the back of his mind again, only for it to immediately be replaced by what he'd done to Gin the night he'd told his moon about the voice, the crime that had made him finally talk. A shiver ran through him and he felt Gin shift beside him disturbed by the motion.

He wrapped an arm around the sleeping form and smiled softly despite his mood.  
Gin was about the only good thing he hadn't managed to fuck up in his worthless life.

' _Not for lack of trying_ ,' the voice whispered, it sounded about as tired as he felt and he didn't even bother arguing, just held his moon tighter. He could feel the voice's rage as it snarled before going blissfully silent again.

He shouldn't feel like this. It wasn't fitting for a man, much less a captain and certainly not a god. Gods didn't feel shaky, they weren't vulnerable, they made their own destiny, didn't need anyone but pawns. Certainly, they didn't need someone to give them hope, a god was confident. They didn't need a light in the dark or a reason to keep fighting for just one more week, one more day. He looked down imagining that he could see Gin's silver hair glowing in the dark despite the fact that he shouldn't be able to see anything.

He'd felt isolated for so long, standing alone in the cold teeth of the storm. Gin had given him warmth and shelter when he'd long since forgotten what they meant, forgotten that there was something beyond the dark ice of his soul and the piercing pain of the voice. When he'd thought momentarily that death or at least oblivion would be preferable.

A wave of relief and gratitude washed over him, catching him by surprise with its force and his throat tightened. His breath hitched quietly as he choked back the fresh tears that rose in his throat, burning his eyes and nose. He sniffed and glanced down to make sure he hadn't woken Gin. If Gin tried to comfort him now he had little doubt that it would devolve into another unwarranted snivelfest.

Not that it really mattered any more but he did have his pride. He smiled a dark, humorless smile; he had his pride all right, largely because Gin had gone out of his way to preserve it. Gin'd dealt with the situation, which by rights he should have taken full advantage of, with almost insulting gentleness. 'Almost' was of course the key word, at the moment he could be honest enough with himself to admit he'd desperately needed it. Another strike against him, gods didn't need coddling.

He'd been shocked by Gin's reaction, so unlike what he'd grown to expect between the voice and his general observation of people. He by no means meant to make a habit of it, in fact he wanted nothing more than to restore Gin's image of him. However knowing that if he _did_ slip he wouldn't be torn apart while he was down was, as stupid as it sounded, reassuring.

He fixed his stare on the empty darkness and tried to get a grip, exhaled shakily in an effort to calm down. This was ridiculous, he'd already broken down, as ashamed as he was it should have at least gotten this out of his system. Why did he still feel raw? Why wasn't he over it, moving on? Granted he knew full well that wasn't how it worked, at least for him. It always took so much longer to pick up the pieces than to just keep your damn shit together in the first place. One of the myriad reasons he hated losing control.

It still pissed him off.

He remembered struggling to keep the façade up after he'd finally chased Gin away. True to his reputation, Soul Society had fallen for it, though he always wondered if he'd managed to fool Gin. Probably not entirely or his moon wouldn't be here now. He remembered fighting to shake off his reaction the night he'd attacked Gin, wallpapering over what he had no time to deal with. He'd had no choice then, the voice had its demands. He was simply angry that he couldn't handle himself, couldn't handle being a person, angry that it had fallen to Gin to take the pressure off until he could get himself together.

Angry that he _still_ hadn't.

Gin wriggled closer in his sleep, almost super-humanly so. Aizen was going to assume he was still asleep at least, shame warred with gratitude but he wasn't about to look that gift horse in the mouth. He hadn't felt so humiliated in years. Oddly enough that thought brought back pleasant memories.

"Maybe he's needs to be punished again?" Kyouka offered attempting to lighten the mood.

"Maybe," Aizen replied and actually smiled, though he had no intention of doing so even in jest. He had no desire to throw his moon's mercy back in his face. It was a fraction of what Gin had earned but for the moment, it was the best he could do, when they got to Hueco Mundo…

He realized he felt better; the tremors racking his body had receded. He no longer felt like he was clinging to composure by his fingertips. Relief mingled with disgust, gods also didn't need contact just so they could stop shaking like a leaf. For all his anger and self-loathing though, he couldn't bring himself to get up or even push Gin away, in fact he found himself holding his moon closer without even thinking about it. He would hold that ghostly glow of silver too if he could, the one spot of light in a dark room, in a dark life, in his coal black soul, like a lighthouse.

"Thank you," he breathed as he rubbed Gin's sleeping back.

* * *

_Anytime,_ Gin thought, remaining as still as possible. Usually Sousuke could instantly tell when he was feigning sleep and he worried a bit at that, but figured it was understandable that he was a little distracted given everything that had happened. He kept silent, Sousuke had tried so hard to get things back to normal, seemed so concerned with rebuilding his image that Gin worried that if he followed his instincts and tried to be comforting it would just add more stress. Sousuke would doubtless feel the need to keep himself in check. Anyway, he enjoyed the glimpse of realness even if he could only observe it through sound and touch.

To say that Sousuke didn't wear his heart on his sleeve was an understatement. Until yesterday he'd seen the man choke-up maybe a handful of times over almost a century. Not once had there been actual tears, so he knew that this 'voice'— the one he'd known about for over a year and thought little of beyond 'that thing that attacked me once'— was some real shit.

He also knew from personal experience that the last thing his sun needed was some condescending prick trying to make things better. He wanted privacy, needed comfort, at least that's how Gin'd feel and it seemed they were more similar than he'd ever imagined. He was determined to give both, because the man was his sun, his sanctuary. Aizen was going to take Gin with him regardless of his momentary fear because Aizen wanted _Gin_ with him, not anyone else. That alone washed the fear away. He could be open and not worry about being cast aside, even if Aizen could perhaps find better, tougher accomplices. That was more reassuring than he could express.

* * *

Aizen drew another shaky breath and continued to stroke Gin's hair, turning a little so that he could clutch the younger man with both arms. He whispered nothing statements in his moon's ear, just gooey meaningless words, but they brought him comfort and maybe somewhere in his subconscious they brought Gin comfort too. He hoped so, that somewhere Gin knew all the things he couldn't say face to face. He contemplated the old saying about what you were in the dark and gave a bitter laugh.

It was of course, supposed refer to the immoral side that you kept hidden, Gin knew all of that though, a smug smile crossed his face and he squeezed his partner tighter. Aizen was the most dangerous Shinigami in Soul Society, depending on one's point of view the most evil; yet Gin was a most willing accomplice.

What was he in the dark then? Just a trembling, worthless little ball of doubt, delusion, madness and self-loathing, unfortunately Gin knew that now too. His hand shook a bit as he handled his moon. He didn't care, he was too tired and could afford to drop his guard a little now that Gin was asleep. Only a little though, he expected the voice to pounce now that he had granted it an opening and prepared for the inevitable, a small price to pay.

He realized that he shouldn't have been so surprised by Gin's acceptance. The fox had been dragging his sorry ass out of the abyss for decades now, whether he deserved it or not. He thought back to the picture of them from when he'd first met Cherry. The physical picture hadn't existed in ten years but the memory remained.

' _And why did he burn it?'_ the voice asked mocking.

' _Right on time,'_ he sneered, belaying the familiar terror he felt as the ice cracked a little more under his feet and he remembered how unworthy he was of the fox in his arms.. He anticipated slipping into the cold waters of despair again, however when he looked down at Gin the tide of panic receded a little. _I thought we were past that? Past her,_ Gin had said.

' _Why? Why did he burn it?'_ the voice repeated. ' _How does a fuck-up like you get to keep him?'_

' _It doesn't matter,'_ he replied, clenching his fists to stop them from shaking.

' _You pathetic, needy fool! Of course it does. You think he isn't going to make you pay. You think he'll ever actually love you again. Assuming he ever did to begin with.'_

Aizen actually smiled at his faceless tormentor.

' _It doesn't matter to Gin. Therefore it doesn't matter,'_ he thought this with as much conviction as he could muster though he wasn't sure he believed it.

On one hand Gin _had_ replaced the picture. On the other he wanted it to be true too badly to trust his instincts. He looked down at Gin again and decided that it really didn't matter. _If_ the voice was right, they'd work it out. He wiped unshed tears from his eyes as time crawled by and braced for the next assault, but the voice never replied. Eventually he let the tension drain from his body.

Lying down without taking his arms from Gin he drifted off to sleep, at peace in a way he hadn't been since…ever. Even the night after he fought Grand Fisher he'd been tense from trying to hold it together in front of Gin. He'd felt safe in Gin's arms that night but this was a different sort of peace and it was incredible.

In the light of day he was the man who would be god and soon they would see exactly how much they should fear him. In the dark, he was just a ship lost at sea. Gin called him his sun though, chose to stay even though everyone knew that he could do better. In the dark he was nothing, but against all odds and reason Gin was his and that was everything.


End file.
